


They don’t call you Lord Commander Tight Pants for nothing!

by Amymel86



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Modern AU, Soulmate AU, Tumblr Prompt, dialogue prompt, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 16:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: Her pretty blush was deepening by the second and it seemed to be travelling down her creamy neck. Jon averted his eyes, it wouldn’t do to oogle his date upon first meeting her.But bloody hell, she was something. He’s going to need to send Gilly a fruit basket or perhaps a whole damn orchard by way of thanks for setting up this date with her work colleague.





	They don’t call you Lord Commander Tight Pants for nothing!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riahchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riahchan/gifts).



> dialogue prompt from the lovely riahchan! A soulmate au for you - I hope you like it!

“They don’t call you Lord Commander Tight Pants for nothing!” his cute date said before hiccuping and covering her mouth with both hands. Her eyes went wide and she shook her head. His wrist started to itch. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I just said that!”

Her pretty blush was deepening by the second and it seemed to be travelling down her creamy neck. Jon averted his eyes, it wouldn’t do to oogle his date upon first meeting her. 

But bloody hell, she was something. He’s going to need to send Gilly a fruit basket or perhaps a whole damn orchard by way of thanks for setting up this date with her work colleague.

 _‘Sansa’_ , she’d told him her name was. He’d thought the name was pretty but all Gilly had divulged was that she was  _‘his type_ ’ - but what does that even mean? He doesn’t have  _‘a type’_ …does he?

Well, apparently he does, because he likes everything about Sansa so far.

“I was nervous about our date and my friend made me do some shots to loosen me up… I think I might’ve over-done it a bit,” she admits coyly as Jon can’t help but rub at his wrist. There’s a weird tingling sensation that’s kind of hard to ignore. “And I’m sorry that I called you Lord Commander Tight Pants too, it’s just…. well, that’s what Gilly refers to you as and…” she gestured with a nod to his skinny jeans, which he will freely admit are overly tight. “I could count the change in your pocket in those bad boys,” she mutters to herself, and Jon has the sudden urge to cover himself.

Opening his mouth to finally say something, Jon furrows his brow and gets distracted by his wrist again. Why is it so damned itchy? Is there something irritating him under his watch? Did he switch laundry detergents recently? He pushes up his sleeve and almost does a double-take.

There, on the inside of his wrist, are some letters forming on his red, angry-looking skin. 

He’d always hoped he’d be one of the lucky ones to find their soulmate. Everyone did. But to see the mark of the very first words they utter to you appear on your skin before your own eyes is a completely surreal experience.

“Fuck!” he exclaims, watching the words on his wrist get darker and darker, “Fuck! Shit! Oh my God!”

His eyes go wide then as he looks up at her - at Sansa… at his  _soulmate_ , and it’s his turn to cover his mouth. 

“What’s the matt-” her brows are drawn together in concern before she straightens and does a funny little wiggle.

“Umm….”

Sansa reaches one hand over her opposite shoulder to rub at her back, a confused look on her face. “What the?”

There’s nothing for it, he’ll have to show her - so Jon pushes up his sleeve and offers out his wrist.

She’s confused at first. Anyone would be. Who in their right mind would get a tattoo saying  _‘They don’t call you Lord Commander Tight Pants for nothing’_?

But then she gasps, recognition on her face. “You’re my…? We’re…?”

It’s like she dare not say the word, and God, if that thought doesn’t put fear into Jon’s heart. What if she doesn’t want to be his soulmate? What if she’s unhappy with her pairing?

His worries flee like autumn leaves from the trees however, when she flings her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, giggling merrily into his ear. “Are we really soulmates?!”

“I’m pretty sure we are,” he tells her as he sets her back down on her feet. she looks giddy. He feels it too. “I mean, I’ve got the mark and -”

Sansa’s features pinch in discomfort suddenly and she twists, trying to see her own back. “I’ve forgotten what you said,” she admitted, “what were your first words to me? They can’t have been as bad as mine! Sorry about that!”

“Umm…”


End file.
